


Under the Berth

by ChrysCare



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Halloween
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrysCare/pseuds/ChrysCare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A land full of crystals shimmering in a nearly ever lit land, your every need is catered to, no possible need for want . . .</p><p>If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.</p><p>Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The small black and white sparkling lies in his berth, optics focused on the door. Any pulse now his Carrier will walk through and read him a story. The green mech walks in with a small smile, yellow visor glowing warmly. Jazz smiles as he snuggles down under the warm thermal blanket. With the data-pad from the shelf, blanket tucked around him, and Carrier sitting on the edge of the berth, Jazz chirps happily.

“Ready, my little sweet spark?” his Carrier asks, Jazz nods as he pulls his turbofox Nightfury close to his chest. “Okay, it’s a scary one this dark cycle, you still want it?” Jazz nods as he looks up with glittering deep sapphire optics, small specks of aquamarine light shimmer as he glances between his Carrier and the data-pad. “Okay,” his Carrier smiles as he onlines the data-pad, one that is a few versions old, it has a dual color trim and smaller screen.

‘This story must be really old,’ Jazz thinks to himself.

“Once there was a beautiful land where everyone was happy and no one was afraid of anything. Their home was nothing like anyone had ever seen. Crystals filled the fields and streets, the star shone down on their land, creating a sea of sparkling rainbows. Even the mechs were made of crystals, none fairer than the benevolent King. He loved his mechs and his mechs loved him. They never knew what it was to need, their land provided everything for them. As long as the King was happy, the land prospered.

“One orn a shadow fell over the crystal land, it blocked the shimmering star and soon the crystals turned black and jagged. Eventually, without the warmth and light to caress them, they became brittle and broke at the slightest touch. The King, growing weak at his darkening kingdom, tried to save the crystals in the royal garden. The garden provided enough for the kingdom, but they too fell victim to the Shadow. The Shadow, what they called the beast, came and took over. Some say he devoured the benevolent King’s spark, and that is why the King grew cold and too weak to fight for his kingdom. The Shadow punished the King and cursed him along with all the others. Their curse, to live a dark and cold life, soon evolved into one where they craved sparks, but not just any sparks: the sparks of the pure and untainted, the sparks of sparklings. 

"In the land called Cybertron, a darkness, much like the Shadow, was banished and the Cybertronians were freed when their benevolent god sent the darkness away with the help of his thirteen creations. The Cybertronians lived a peaceful and prosperous life until one fateful orn when their perfect world shattered. A sparkling went missing. The Enforcers couldn’t understand who would harm a sparkling. Exhausting all resources, their investigation came up inconclusive. The sparkling seemed to have disappeared off the planet. Vorns passed and peace and perfection almost returned but the cloud of darkness dimmed their world.

“Then came the orn when another sparkling disappeared. The investigation reopened but nothing came of it either. No matter where they turned for clues, there was a void. In the coming vorns, sparklings started disappearing. Creators locked their doors and windows, but they still kept vanishing. Every sparkling went to recharge one dark cycle and the next orn, their berth was empty.”

“Carrier, is this story real?” Jazz frowns, optics tight as he looks up at the yellow visor. No way was the story real. The yellow visor dims and he sees his own optics reflected on the surface. A slight tingle crawls up his back strut as his Carrier looks at him. Every time he looks into his Carrier’s visor or his Sire’s, he gets the tingle, though different magnitudes at different times. It wasn’t that visors were all that rare, in fact it was quite the opposite; most of his classmates wore visors, nearly all of his teachers did.

“Jazz, this story… this story is very real,” his Carrier frowns. Jazz glances at the door to see his Sire come into view. The gold visor dims as well as his Carrier presses a kiss to his forehelm and sets the data-pad on the table by his berth. He snuggles down in his berth while his Carrier joins his Sire at the door. The light dims when his Creators leave his view.

“Why did you read him that?” he hears his Sire hiss, one of the advantages of sensitive audio receptors. “Hound, I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t introduce him to that. You know what will happen now that he knows about that land.”

“Mirage, he would find out eventually, almost all sparklings do. Look at us; he had to have gotten some curiosity from us.”

“Still, I just wanted to keep him perfect for now.”

“Maybe he will be like me and just go twice, visors aren’t that bad. We can still see somewhat.”

Jazz tilts his helm as he looks at his closed door. What were his creators talking about? Was that land really real? He grabs the data-pad and onlines it. Flipping through the screen pages, he searches for more information.

Frowning when he doesn’t find anything except ancient glyphs, he settles in his berth again to fall into recharge. Whispers trickle into his audios as he falls into recharge.

“Come,” the whisper says. “Play with us. We’ll have fun.”

Jazz turns on his side as his optics flutter and fall offline. His arms tighten around the black and gray turbofox stuffed animal.

“Jazz, come play with me,” the voice whispers. Jazz hums at the harmonious voice, filled with safety and warmth. It seems like music to his audios as it calls for him. “Jazz. Jazz.”

 

Jazz onlines to starlight dancing over his face as it shines through the see-through satin curtain. He stretches out his arms, the turbofox falls off the berth and tumbles to the floor.

“Sorry, Nightfury," Jazz stretches his back strut and pulls the thermos-blanket off of him to slip off the berth. Pedes gently hit the plush carpet floor as he bends down to pick up his turbofox.

“Jazz,” the whisper from his dream calls, and he glances under his berth to see a small glowing blue orb right in the middle of the floor under his berth.

“Oh,” Jazz says, optics shining brightly. It was so pretty. It looked like one of his marbles; maybe he missed it when he was cleaning.

“Jazz,” his Sire calls as he starts to crawl under the berth. “Jazz!”

Before his digits touch the orb, he is roughly yanked back by his pedes. He stares into the gold visor of his Sire, turbofox held by a paw.

“Jazz,” Mirage says, voice quiet. “Please, never go under your berth.”

“Why not?” Jazz frowns and glances at his berth. “I found one of my marbles.”

“That is not your marble, promise me you’ll never touch the glowing orb.”

“Okay, Sire,” Jazz nods, pulling Nightfury close to his chest. Mirage holds him close, a servo pressed against Jazz’s back as he is carried into the dining room for Energon. His Carrier sits across from him, and his Sire sets his cube of sparkling grade in front of him. The warm Energon smells sweet and he grabs it with both servos, humming at the smell. He glances up at his Carrier’s Energon to see silver flecks of steel dancing around in it. He glances down at his own to see rust swirling around in it. Glancing at his Sire’s cube, he frowns at not seeing any additives as his Sire drinks. Thinking back, his Sire never did put anything in his Energon. “Sire, why don’t you put anything in your Energon?”

Mirage glances at him, Hound looks up. “Jazz, I don’t put anything in my Energon because I can’t taste it. I can’t taste anything.”

“Why?” Jazz furrows his optic ridges and frowns. How could his Sire not taste?

His Sire frowns, Jazz sees the slight tremor in his Sire’s servo. “Jazz, why don’t you go off and play with your friend next door?”

“Okay Carrier,” Jazz chirps and hops off the chair, but before he reaches the door, he hears his Sire start to speak.

“Hound, he was about to go under the berth when I went in there,” his Sire says. “I can’t lose him.”

“We won’t lose him, he’s a smart sparkling,” his Carrier says. “He’s just curious.”

“He’ll lose his optics,” his Sire starts crying. “Do you want him to look like this to his bonded?”

“Chances are that his bonded will have a visor, too.”

“He could deactivate, you remember how it was when you went. They started corralling sparklings. You watched them get devoured.”

Jazz backs away to the door. How could anyone lose their optics? What does devoured mean? He runs over to his best friend’s house. The yellow and black sparkling plays in the front yard of the bright yellow and blue house. Bumblebee’s Creators sit on the porch and wave at Jazz.

“Hi, Sunstreaker and Jolt,” Jazz chirps, Bumblebee runs over and tackles him in a hug.

“What do you want to play this orn, Jazz?” Bumblebee asks, never once letting go.

“Uh… do you still have the climbing set in the back?”

“Yep,” Bumblebee smiles and takes his servo.

“Have your creators told you the Crystal land story?”

“No, a couple of other mechs in my class said it was scary. Did yours? Were you scared?”

Jazz shrugs. “It can’t be real, a whole land made of crystal? An evil shadow taking over?”

“Sounds scary,” Bumblebee shivers.

“I think the story scares my Sire,” Jazz says, jumping up on the ladder.

 

The star begins to fall behind the crystal trees and Jazz waves bye to Bumblebee. Stepping up to his gun-metal gray house, he wonders why anyone would want that color. Bumblebee’s house was amazing and didn’t look deactivated. He glances around the neighborhood. Other gray homes dot the area, the house across the street is rose-pink. The mech tends to flowers and Energon crystals. The mech’s lavender optics shine softly in the dimming light. The mech’s neighbor comes out of his dark gray house, red visor shining in the setting starlight. Jazz pushes open the door as it gets darker.

“Sire? Carrier?” Jazz calls out but no one answers. “Creators?”

He walks up the stairs to the berthrooms and peeks into his Creator’s room. His Sire lies in recharge while his Carrier sits beside him.

“Carrier?” he whispers, stepping into the room. “Is Sire alright?”

“Why don’t we get you off to berth,” Hound says after nodding. He frowns slightly at his Carrier’s smile, it’s forced, he can tell. He holds out his arms to be picked up anyway.

“Carrier,” he says, small fist resting on the green chestplate.

“Yes, Jazz?” Hound looks down at him as they enter his room.

“Why did you tell me that story when Sire didn’t want you to?”

“He wants to protect you by not telling you what all the other sparklings your age already know. I want to protect you by telling you so that you know.”

“Carrier, did you go to the Crystal land?” he glances up, if his Carrier went, it couldn’t be all bad. His Carrier was here to be his Carrier.

“Yes, your Sire and I both went and you’ll probably go at least once. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jazz hums in his warmed Energon as his Carrier reads him a story about a dragon rescuing a village from an evil sorcerer. Once his Energon is finished and the story draws to a close, he gets tucked in and kissed on the forehelm. 

“Good dark cycle, Jazz,” Hound says rubbing his helm. “Recharge well.”

“Good dark cycle, Carrier,” Jazz hums. “I love you, Carrier. I love Sire too.”

He watches as his Carrier walks out of the berthroom and turns to face the bay window with the satin curtains. The first moon reflects in the window, casting his room in shadows. His glow lamp casts the berth and surrounding area in blue light. 

“Jazz,” the harmonic whisper comes and light shimmers on the floor. He peeks over the edge of the berth, Nightfury gets squished by his chestplates and berth. “Jazz, come play with me. We could have rust sticks. I know they’re your favorite.”

How did the whisper know his designation and what he liked? Could it see him?

“Jazz, come play with me, please,” the whisper says, Jazz slips off the berth. Nightfury clutched under his arm as the light glows brighter under the berth. He gets on his servos and knees with Nightfury clutched in one servo. The blue marble shines bright and grows brighter everytime he gets closer. Reaching his servo out, one black digit touches the orb and blue light engulfs him. He cries out as he falls, at least he thinks he’s falling. Blue light surrounds him as he falls or floats, whichever it is he’s doing. 

Suddenly there is solid ground under his aft and the blue light slowly fades from around him. He stares at the surroundings. A white star shines over helm and casts the ground in various rainbows. The rainbows dance around him as he continues to sit. 

“Hello, little one,” the harmonic voice says, he glances over to his left to see a mostly white frosted mech made of crystal, ebony crystals line grooves in the mech’s frame. A brilliant ruby chevron with a gold shield shines in the starlight. Two sweeping wings cascade in three tiers behind the mech, one black, one white and one gold. “You’ve come to play with me?”

Jazz nods, glancing at the mechs servo when the other holds it out to him. He slides his small black servo into the frosted white crystal one. 

“What is his place?”

“It is my kingdom,” the mech smiles and picks him up. “I see you’ve brought a friend, what is his designation?”

“Nightfury,” Jazz says, giggling a bit as the mech pets his stuffed turbofox.

“What do you like to play?” the mech asks holding him close.

“Can we explore?” he asks hopefully and glances around. Nearly everything is crystal around them, mostly clear crystals but colored crystals dot the landscape. “It’s so pretty here but my Carrier said darkness took over.”

“You are a smart little sparkling,” the mech smiles, tapping him on the nose.

“I like programming,” Jazz chirps, the mech hums as they walk down a sapphire crystal path leading to a small village. Large crystal gates greet them; violet gargoyles sit on each of the gate posts while soft colorful crystal arrows top the clear crystal fence posts. He glances at the streets in the village. Absolutely no mechs are out. “Where is everyone?”

“You have come just in time for Energon,” the mech smiles, Jazz smiles lightly as he’s pulled closer. 

“Wait,” Jazz pushes against the mech’s chest. “You’re the king here?”

“Yes, Jazz,” the mech nods and Jazz squirms a bit. 

“Can you put me down?” Jazz feels his spark pulse quicken. The mech frowns down at him. 

“Why would you want to be put down, we are nearly at my castle. Do you not want Energon?”

“Please, put me down, I’d rather walk,” Jazz forces a smile.

“Alright,” the mech smiles and sets him by the fountain. The moment his pedes hit the ground, he tears himself out of the mech’s grasp and bolts towards the gates. Pedes sound behind him and he pleads to his pedes and short legs to go faster. “Jazz!”

The mech’s shout gives him the extra boost and he runs past the gates and down the path where he landed. The blue orb shines in the field and he glances over his shoulder to see the king on his knees a few pedes off the path. 

“Jazz, please don’t go, I need you,” the king pleads, pink Energon falls down his faceplates. “Come back.”

Jazz turns to the king; the king’s face lightens a bit. He reaches over to the orb, the bright spark blue optics flick to the orb and back to him. 

“Jazz?” the mech asks quietly. His black digits touch the orb and the beautiful Crystal land dissolves into dust. Crawling out from under his berth, he glances over his frame. His right palm burns and he hisses as he turns over his servo. An ancient glyph is engraved in white, ruby and gold crystal. Each of the crystals holds a black center so it looks as if it fades into the colors. Closing it into a fist, he wonders if his Carrier and Sire have the glyph. Did his classmates have the glyph too? He runs to the washracks outside his berthroom and finds the black paint. He pulls open the lid and grabs a brush. He smears the black paint over his palm.

“No, no, no,” he whimpers as the black paint evaporates into a dark cloud before disappearing. He glances around the paint room, sapphire optics lock onto black paint tape. He jumps over to the tape and wraps it around his servo. Smiling as the glyph doesn’t burn through; he starts to walk out when he feels the burn along his wrist. The glyph etches itself on the white of his wrist. 

“Aw mech,” Jazz whines and digs through the cabinet for other colors of tape. Finding the white, he covers the glyph. Nanoseconds later, the glyph burns on his left palm. He stomps his pede and throws the tape. Maybe no one will notice. He goes back to his berthroom to get Nightfury only to find the turbofox nowhere to be found. “Scrap.”

 

He sighs as he looks at the cloudy blue orb. The portal closed, he missed his chance for mercy. The shadows creep up over him like a sick blanket. Something in the field catches his attention and before the shadow completely encompasses the kingdom, he grabs the little turbofox, Nightfury. The sparkling would not leave this, his little friend. He smirks to himself as the darkness wraps around him and he walks back to his castle. Mechs venture out of their homes at the fresh scent of a sparkling. White clawed digits grip the stuffed animal as he growls at the others. This was his sparkling. His to take the spark of. Now if only he could trap his smart little sparkling. 

 

Jazz frowns as he sits on the edge of his berth. “Poor Nightfury, trapped in the . . . the sparkling eating land.” He hops off the berth and calls under the berth. “I will come back for you Nightfury.”

“Jazz,” Mirage yells, running into the room as he turns around. His Sire stops at the door to stare at him. 

“Hi, Sire,” Jazz smiles a little, Mirage grabs him and holds him tight. 

“Oh, Jazz,” Mirage cries, he feels Energon tears ping on his frame and he looks up at his Sire. 

“What’s wrong, Sire?” he frowns, small black servos wiping away the pink Energon. 

“I thought you’d be gone,” Mirage tries to smile before burying his face into his small neck. 

“I’m right here, Sire,” he wraps his arms around his Sire’s neck. He smiles as his Sire continues to hold him. “Sire?”

“Jazz, your Carrier and I are lucky to have you,” Mirage sets him on the berth. “I thank Primus every orn for giving you to me.”

“Why?” Jazz frowns as he tilts his helm.

“I have a spark defect,” Mirage says sitting beside him and taking his servo. Jazz looks up to his Sire. 

“What does that mean?” Jazz bites his bottom lip plate. “Is your spark going to quit?”

“No, my spark just can’t produce enough energy to create another spark,” Mirage smiles slightly, cupping Jazz’s helm. “My medic told me that you would be my only sparkling.”

“I’m here, Sire,” Jazz crawls up on Mirage’s lap and snuggles up to his Sire’s frame. “Snuggle time?”

“I think we can go find Carrier for that,” Mirage smiles down at him and he wraps his arms around his Sire’s neck. Jazz smiles as he and his Sire find Carrier on the couch.

“Snuggle time,” Jazz purrs as they join Carrier on the couch. He giggles as his creators tickle him. He almost forgets the Crystal land, almost forgets losing Nightfury. 

“Jazz,” the harmonic voice drifts down to the main room. The glyph on his servo burns slightly. “I have your precious turbofox. Why don’t you come back to rescue him?”


	3. Chapter 3

With the berthroom light lit, the glow of the blue light under the berth illuminates the whole berthroom. His helm rests on his crossed arms over his knees as he sits on the floor. 

“Jazz,” the king calls and he hisses as the glyph burns. 

“I’m not coming,” Jazz replies.

“You don’t want Nightfury anymore?” the king asks, Jazz frowns and growls a little. “Jazz?” the clock downstairs chimes mid-dark cycle and the light under the berth flickers. “Jazz!” Slight terror fills the voice and Jazz inches closer. The light fades as the final toll sounds. 

‘Why did the king sound so desperate at the end?’ Jaz wonders. “Could there be more behind this?”

He decides to start investigating, maybe his classmates would know more and help him understand. He grabs the old data-pad and puts it in his bag. One drawback of being a sparkling, no subspace. Setting his bag by his door, he walks out into the dark hallway and follows the wall to his Creator’s berth room. 

“Sire,” he whispers at his Sire’s side of the berth. Gold visor onlines and his Sire looks down at him. 

“Jazz, what’s wrong?” Mirage asks.

“Can I recharge in here?” Jazz pouts a little. 

“Of course you can,” Mirage smiles as he gets picked up. He snuggles against his Sire’s frame as his Sire falls back into recharge. He glances up at his Sire, something catches his attention. On his Sire’s neck is a glyph, one that kind of looks like the one on his servo but it’s not completely the same. 

‘What do the glyphs mean?’ Jazz wonders and glances over his shoulder at his Carrier. Where would his Carrier’s glyph be?

 

Jazz onlines to a view of green chest plates and the feeling of being cradled against the frame. 

“Carrier?” Jazz says and the yellow visor brightens as his Carrier looks down. 

“Yes, Jazz,” his Carrier says as he gets set down at the table.

He glances around before asking, “Carrier, can I ask you a question about Sire?”

“Sure,” Hound says getting their Energon ready.

“When I came in to recharge with you and Sire, I noticed Sire had a glyph on his neck. What does it mean?” Jazz looks up to his Carrier. 

“When we went to the crystal land, like everyone, we get marked by a certain glyph. It is the glyph of the mech who lured us into the land. Your Sire’s is different than mine.”

Jazz looks down at the glyph on his Carrier’s wrist. It was different. Both the glyphs were different than his own. 

“Carrier,” Jazz whispers, glancing around to make sure Mirage isn’t around. “Would you be mad if I went to the crystal land?”

“Almost all sparklings go, but be careful when you do,” Hound smiles, a fake one. Jazz bites his glossa and keeps his servo closed. If his Sire and Carrier’s glyph was different than his own, he had to find a classmate who shared his glyph. Then he could get to the bottom of why the king sounded so desperate. It couldn’t be that the darkness was around still, it looked perfect. 

 

Jazz walks into his classroom, pulling his chair closer to the desk, he glances over at the other sparklings. Some had the glyphs on their shoulders, chestplates and helms, while others don’t have them visible but wear visors. All the visible ones still don’t match his. Wondering to himself, would the library have anything on the glyphs? Good thing this orn was library orn. 

As the orn goes on and they learn their lessons, he can’t help but keep getting distracted with the glyphs. He notices one of his classmates have the same glyph as his Sire. 

“Okay, class, time to go to the library,” the teacher smiles and they line up single file to go to the library. Jazz scans the library markers for anything that the glyphs would be under. He spies a small shelf labeled “Glyph meaning”. He slips out of line and hides behind larger shelves as he looks for the data-pad. Finding one with similar looking symbols, like the glyphs, he pulls it off the shelf and onlines it before connecting it to his story one. He copies the contents as his teacher talks to the rest of the class about an upcoming project. The download finishes as his teacher does and he quickly puts the data-pad back and puts his back in his bag as he rejoins the class. 

“Where did you go?” Bumblebee asks when Jazz steps up beside him. 

“Found an interesting data-pad,” Jazz shrugs. “So what are we doing?”

“We pick another mech to be partners with and we look for an interesting topic under . . . “ Bumblebee pulls out a thin data-pad “Mythology” is written on it in their teacher’s servo writing.

“Mythology?” Jazz tilts his helm. “What, like Primus and Unicron?”

“I don’t know,” Bumblebee shrugs as they go to the shelf labeled Mythology. Primus and Unicron data-pads fill the shelves. Jazz trails his small digits over the data-pads. One catches his attention, three glyphs in ancient Cybertronian form a triangle on the edge of one data-pad. He pulls it out and notices the frame is covered in ancient glyphs. The glyph on the top of the pyramid is identical to his.

“Emperor of the Universe and Ancestor of all Spirits,” Bumblebee reads the modern title taped to the top. “Sounds boring.”

“Maybe,” Jazz shrugs as they look for more data-pads for their topic. They claim a table for themselves and pile data-pads on it. Bumblebee starts going through them as Jazz onlines the data-pad with the glyph. Downloading it onto his story data-pad, he glances around to make sure no one is watching him. The data-pad finishes downloading. 

“This is so boring,” Bumblebee sighs, flailing in his chair. 

“It could be worse, we could have gotten history,” Jazz snickers as he looks at the two sparklings who got the category. Both recharge on their table. 

“Yeah,” Bumblebee snickers. 

 

After programing, Jazz runs up to his berthroom to look through the books he downloaded. He opens the Glyph Meaning file first. Thousands of glyphs line the pages. Modern translations line the other side of the page. 

“Daji, Misufaiya, Onsuroto, Shokkuwebu, Aianfisuto,” Jazz frowns as he reads the modern translations. “Paseputa, Kurifujanpa, Obadoraibu. These make no sense.” Jazz flips through until he finds the glyphs of his Sire’s and Carrier’s. “Sandakurakka and Sukaiwapu. These mean nothing to me.” Jazz growls and flips through to find the three glyphs forming a triangle, the same from the other data-pad. “Puraimasu, Yunikuron and Puroru. What is Puroru? Carrier said these were the names of the mechs. The king is Puroru? Why isn’t there any others with Puroru’s mark?”

At the end of the file are the glyphs and modern names as well as mech names like, Skyquake, Dreadwing, Arcee, Beachcomber and Bluestreak. Every mech name falls under a glyph, most of them have a blue spark bullet point beside them. He finds Sandakurakka and Sukaiwapu, his creators’ designations are listed but without the spark. Did that mean all the ones with sparks are . . . deactivated? He turns to the triangle glyphs. Puraimasu and Yunikuron have no mechs listed underneath. Puroru, on the other servo does, thirteen to be exact, not as many as the others.

Briarmane (Spark)  
Timbercrown(Spark)  
Quartzsage (Spark)  
SilverNail (Spark)  
Echoset (Spark)  
Hookride (Spark)  
Dreadframe (Spark)  
Afterslide (Spark)  
Smokedrive (Spark)  
Flipknife (Spark)  
Heathawk (Spark)  
Skymix (Spark)

Jazz notices the last name doesn’t have a spark beside it and reads the glyph. He frowns.

Jazz

Every mech who was claimed by the king deactivated. All except him. Going back would surely leave a spark by his designation. 

How did the data-pad know he went there? Jazz frowns as he looks at it.

He had to go back to get Nightfury.

Making up his mind, he stuffs the data-pad in the bag as well as a thermoblanket and a biolight stick before setting it aside. He will have to wait for dark cycle, when his creators wouldn’t worry.

 

Tank full of Energon, a story read and a kiss on the forehelm, he watches his Carrier leave the room. Once his Carrier is far enough down the hall, he slips off his berth, grabbing the bag and crawls under it. The blue light shines bright and he tumbles into the crystal land. Darkness surrounds him as he falls or floats until his aft lands on the hard ground. Darkness still surrounds him but a large white moon hangs in the sky to illuminate the crystal land in a ghostly foggy hue. White wisps of fog hug the once clear and colorful crystals which are black and jagged. 

Jazz continues to sit in the field, looking around at the bleak and deactivated land. Wasn’t it perfect before? How much time passed? Was Nightfury all right? The king would have his turbofox. 

Jazz stands, brushing off the black crystal powder from his frame. The crystal path is as black as the sky, arachnid webs scatter over its surface and with each step more race out under his pede. In the distance is the village, blue torches illuminate it, shadows flicker making it look alive. His spark pulses hard as he approaches the black village. When he reaches the gate, the gargoyles sneer down at him, flakes of black crystals fall toward him like acid rain or ash from the smelting pits. The once smooth arrows are now jagged, some hold dried Energon on the tips. 

A cool breeze blows over his frame, but there is no wind. He shivers as he takes a hesitant step into the village. Insects buzz around him but as his pede hits the webbed crystal tiles, all noise ceases. All except his spark pounding in his audios. He’s the only one that can hear that, right?

He clutches the straps of his bag as he takes another step in. Reaching the fountain, the gurgle and slopping of Energon bubbling out in thick black clumps makes his tanks churn. It was once normal pink Energon, the kind he just had. Soft chimes join the gurgle and slopping, Jazz glances around to see wind chimes hanging completely still on posts around the fountain. He frowns as the chimes continue to sound. A howl, like wind passing by a house, comes but no wind stirs. A scream makes him jump and trip over his own pedes, he falls backward. His helm cracks against the black crystal fountain. Throbbing pain matching his spark pulse grows in the back of his helm, black servo reaching back, the warm liquid sticks to it as he pulls his servo back. Blue Energon coats his small servo. 

“Owe,” Jazz frowns as he looks at the Energon. Picking himself up and ignoring the pain in his helm, he continues walking toward the large black castle looming over the village. The king’s castle. Where Nightfury is being held captive. He stumbles in front of a large estate, gargoyles loom over the sidewalk, black crystal vines climb up the estate walls. The black crystal house shimmers in the foggy light of the moon. Black crystal flowers line the sidewalk toward the porch. Hanging crystal flowers in baskets line the porch around the estate. He steps through the creaking gate as it swings on its hinges, black crystal leaves fall from the crystal trees. 

Jazz steps up onto the porch; the black crystal door holds many designs of leaves and flowers, each molding into the next. Raising his fist to knock, the door slowly creaks open into darkness. A single light flickers on further into the house as he steps in. A light flickers on in the room to his left. Jazz glances over into the living room, a black and white figure stands in the center, ice blue optics looking at him. 

“Hello,” the black and white mech says quietly, barely enough for Jazz to hear. 

“Uh . . . hi,” Jazz waves with his Energon coated servo. 

“Oh, dear, you’re hurt,” the mech appears beside him and picks him up. Jazz frowns as he becomes dizzy. He feels himself being placed on the counter of a dimly lit kitchen. He slumps against the black and white mech, a tingle crawls up his back strut as darkness consumes him. 

 

He onlines to the warmth of a thermoblanket wrapped around him and he lies on the plush couch. He onlines his optics to see the living room, the sound of another mech’s systems catches his attention and he glances over to see the black and white mech sitting on the chair across the table. 

“How are you feeling?” the mech asks, again almost so quiet he can barely hear him. He rubs his helm, feeling the wrap around his helm, at least the throbbing pain is gone. “Would you like me to make some Energon treats?”

“Sure,” he sits up on the couch, frowning a bit as he stares at the other mech. 

“Perhaps we could play a game?” the other mech asks, a little more confident. Jazz wonders if the mech thinks he’ll run away. Perhaps he should, but something about this mech doesn’t seem right. He wonders if this mech is Puroru, if the colors were reversed it would be. 

“Uh . . . what’s your designation?” Jazz asks scrunching the blankets in his servos.

“Prowl,” the mech smiles, Jazz can’t help but smile back at him. No Puroru. Prowl leaves for a moment only to return with a tray of Energon goodies and a couple of games. “Which would you like to play first?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know how to play any of them,” Jazz frowns as he looks at the older games. “Could you teach me how to play?”

“Of course,” Prowl smiles as he climbs on the Praxian’s lap. 

“Do you know the king here?” Jazz asks as he gets the hang of the game. Prowl tenses under him and he glances up to the Praxian. 

“He is evil,” Prowl frowns and glances away from him. “Don’t ever go near his castle.”

“But I have to, he stole my turbofox,” Jazz pouts up at Prowl. “I have to get Nightfury back from Puroru.”

“Puroru?” Prowl flinches. “Why . . . why would the king want your turbofox?”

“Because . . .” Jazz opens his left servo, the glyph glows and Prowl gasps. 

“You’re Jazz,” Prowl frowns down at the sparkling. “I will confront the king to retrieve your turbofox.”

“You will? thanks,” Jazz turns on Prowl’s lap to hug the mech. Prowl glances down, servos hanging in the air before slowly hugging back. 

“You must be exhausted. There is a berth upstairs if you want to recharge.”

“Okay,” Jazz yawns and hugs Prowl as he’s picked up. Prowl smiles as he rubs the sparkling’s helm. Slowly recharge seeps into his frame and he doesn’t even feel himself get put on the berth.

 

Prowl frowns at the sparkling recharging peacefully. The sparkling seemed to hate Puroru but loved him. He turns away from the sparkling and walks out of the nearly empty berthroom. He walks into his where the turbofox lies. 

Jazz can never know who he is. He grabs the turbofox and makes his way down to the living room. Perhaps if he claimed to have gotten Nightfury from the king, Jazz would stay with him. His tanks growl at the smell of sweet Energon. His last batch of sparkling Energon. He takes in a deep vent as he mixes the remaining sparkling armor into the Energon and takes the cube into the living room. 

Briefly his processor follows the thread of wondering how Jazz would taste, when his tanks churn at the thought. He couldn’t hurt Jazz. Something was different about that sparkling. Something he hasn’t seen in a long time. Something . . . maybe . . . hope?

 

Jazz onlines, expecting to see his own berthroom but instead sees the berthroom from Prowl’s estate. Why was Prowl different? Didn’t mechs eat sparklings here? He slips off the berth and tip toes to the door to peek out. The hallway is empty and the only light comes from downstairs. He glances at the door of the room beside his. Prowl wouldn’t mind if he looked around, would he? He opens the door of the other room, darkness fills the room. He steps in, pulling the biolight from his bag. The light grows to illuminate the room.

Five berths line the walls to either side while two berths sit under the large picture window. Black silk curtains cover the window. He steps up to the closest berth. It’s small like the one he was in. He climbs up, servo touching cold metal and he sees half of a helm, the optic dangles out of the optical socket. He tumbles off the berth without a scream. Shock wraps around him and he runs to the other berths to see various parts of sparklings.

“No, no, no,” Jazz gasps, backing out of the room, small servos over his mouth. He backs into the wall, spark pulsing hard. Did Prowl want to eat him? Was he giving him Energon to fatten him up?

Jazz pinches his abdominal protoform. Was he fatter than before? He glances at the stairs, the only way out. He takes a deep vent. And another. And another before pushing himself off the wall and bounding down the stairs. 

“Jazz?” Prowl asks, coming into the hallway from the living room. “You’re online, I-“

Jazz flattens himself against the door before remembering it opens in. 

“Jazz?” Prowl puts his servo on the door, shutting it just as Jazz opens it. 

“Let me go, I don’t want to be eaten,” Jazz screams as he tugs on the door with all his small might.

“Jazz, please, don’t leave,” Prowl frowns. “You’re the first sparkling I’ve never wanted to-“

“Let me go!” Jazz screams and punches Prowl. Prowl falls back in shock and Jazz pulls open the door. Racing out of the estate like Puroru was on his aft. He wheezes as he reaches the orb that will take him back home. His digits touch the blue light and darkness surrounds him. 

He feels his floor beneath his knees and servos. Maybe his room is just dark. He crawls out from under his berth to darkness still. He frowns and stumbles over to the light switch. He hears his lights flicker on but darkness surrounds him.

“Carrier!” Jazz wails and falls on his aft. He cries into the darkness until arms wrap around him. His Sire and Carrier’s field encase him with love and calm. He sniffles into his Carrier’s chest. 

“It’s alright, Jazz,” his Sire whispers. “You’re okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jazz frowns at the large storage unit which now sits under his berth preventing him from going back to the crystal land. Something about Prowl keeps nagging at the back of his processor. He rubs his sapphire blue visor, not a decaorn passed his return and he still can’t get used to seeing with the visor. Unlike with his optics where he could see color, the visor allows him to see color but it glows and hurts his processor if he looks at it for too long. The easiest thing to look at is something with two or less shades of color. No wonder their house was bland. The easiest color to look at is of course white. 

“Jazz, are you coming down for Energon?” Hound asks. Jazz frowns and pulls himself off the floor.

 

Prowl’s doorwings tremble as the darkness consumes his house. Every light burns out as the darkness touches it. A groan comes outside; the door creaks open as he flattens himself against the wall. The horned bringer of chaos looms in his doorway, blocking any light from outside. 

“You allowed your one sparkling, your one chance to prove you are not completely useless to me slip through your digits,” the booming voice of the king says, each step the king takes rattles the house. The claws of the king wrap around his neck and he’s dragged up the stairs to the sparklings’ room. 

“Please have mercy, King, I am out of practice,” Prowl scrapes his digits over the massive servo threatening to crush his neck. 

“You see this as out of practice?” the king growls as he throws Prowl into the room. “You keep the remains in berths as if they are just recharging. You make them toys.”

Doorwings fold flat as the dark king picks up a stuffed cyberwolf. The claws dig into it and the king rips it apart. The toy falls to the floor in pieces. 

“You have cost me a spark,” the king growls. “I shall take part of yours.”

“King please, I will get the sparkling, give me time . . .”

“You are out of time,” the king growls and stalks closer, grabbing Prowl by the chest and ripping the armor off.

“Have me-“

“Mercy is for the weak,” the king growls and grabs part of Prowl’s spark. Prowl gasps, crying out as his spark is ripped. He collapses to the ground, panting and vents heaving. 

 

Vorns pass, Jazz gets no closer to figuring out why Prowl didn’t eat him. 

“Hey Jazz,” Bumblebee says, Jazz glances up but doesn’t look directly at his friend. The yellow just didn’t agree with his processor. “Do you want to come over? It’s been a while since we played.”

“I don’t feel like it, I’m supposed to get my upgrade this orn anyway.”

"Oh . . . okay,” Bumblebee heads back over to his house.

“Lucky mech,” Jazz mumbles as he frowns. His Sire and Carrier come out of the house and head toward him. 

“Ready for your upgrade?” Mirage asks.

“Yeah,” Jazz sighs. Only sparklings could go under the berth to the crystal land. 

 

Jazz onlines after his upgrade, he looks around for a mirror before realizing it wouldn’t do any good. He wouldn’t be able to see the details of his frame. Wondering to himself if he looked pleasing enough, maybe his Carrier was right. His bonded might have a visor too. 

He briefly wonders what Prowl would think of his new upgrade. He follows his creators back home. Going up to his room, he plugs the data-pad into his wrist port to read over the research he’s acquired on the crystal land. Maybe he over looked something as a sparkling.

 

Prowl frowns as he holds the stylus up to the calendar. He marks the orn off, Jazz was now a mechling. He failed. The king was right, he was useless. He couldn’t even keep a sparkling from running away. Glancing at the couch, the turbofox lies on the thermoblanket he used to wrap Jazz in. Maybe if he could focus his remaining strength he could call Jazz back, no matter that he’s a mechling now. Something odd about Jazz wouldn’t leave his spark. No matter how much he tries to persuade himself otherwise. He pets the tubofox slowly. The screams of sparklings make him jump and tremble. How could this once beautiful land become so dark and cold? He glances out the window, white servo presses against the glass as a spark shoots into the air and flies to the dark castle. Another spark follows it before everything quiets again. How he missed the sounds of sparkling laughter. He wraps his arms around himself as the air gets colder. 

 

Jazz flops down on his berth. Nothing new in the research. He turns over on his front. Servo pressing against the berth. He wonders if Prowl ever got Nightfury from Puroru. Poor Nightfury.

He sighs before falling into recharge. 

“Jazz?” the melodic voice calls. He frowns slightly. It sounded like Puroru but it also sounded like Prowl. “Jazz come back. I need you.”

Surely Puroru knew he couldn’t. Did they eat mechlings too?

 

Prowl gasps as he collapses to the floor as his spark pulses hard. The house spins around him and he shuts off his optics. If that didn’t work, all hope was lost.


	5. Chapter 5

Jazz onlines to blue light emanating under his berth. He slips off and kneels beside it. Pulling at the storage unit, that was once too heavy as a sparkling, he sets it aside. The blue orb pulses like it did when he was a sparkling. It shimmers in his visor and he shimmies under the berth reaching out to touch it. Darkness engulfs him and the ground appears under him. Instead of being on his aft, he kneels in the field. Blackness surrounds him as he looks around. The torches of the village glow in his visor and he starts walking towards the village when a strong whiff of decaying frames make him gag. Out of habit, he glances around but only darkness fills his vision. The smell of sulfur winds its way though the black crystals he knows fills the fields. Sulfur meant acid rain. Acid rain meant he better get inside. 

He runs toward the gates of the village, his pedes pounding the crystal path as the sulfuric smell follows him. The gurgle of the fountain follows the pungent musky smell of the Energon. His tanks churn and he slows to a stop just outside of the gates of Prowl’s estate. The sulfur grows and soft pings sound around him. He hisses as his frame stings with the droplets of acid rain. The smell of burning and melting metal grows stronger as he approaches the door. The glow of the light from the living room illuminates the door. Jazz raises his servo to knock but the door creaks open. He steps into the estate hesitantly. What if they ate mechlings?

“Jazz?” Prowl asks, Jazz freezes in his steps. How did Prowl know it was him? He glances up to see the light making the white of Prowl’s armor dance as the mech steps down the stairs. Prowl’s smile vanishes and he runs down the stairs. Jazz flinches when Prowl cups his face. He tries pulling away but Prowl just traces the edge of his visor. “You should not have come back. I am sorry for calling you. If you want to leave, never come back.”

“But I just got here,” Jazz frowns up at the Praxian. Prowl turns away from him. “You know, I came back to see why you didn’t eat me. Do you still eat sparklings?”

“You were the last sparkling who visited me,” Prowl glances back at him. “The king doesn’t like me. I don’t give him what he wants. He wasn’t always king. The king before him loved sparklings, he could never have any of his own because he didn’t have someone he cared that much for. Anyway, you left before I could eat you, not that I wanted to. I never really did. The king visited me after you left, I cost him a spark.”

Jazz frowns as Prowl walks into the kitchen. He follows the Praxian. “I’m sorry, when I leave this time you won’t be punished, will you?”

“We don’t eat mechlings,” Prowl smiles, offering him a cube of pink Energon while he takes a blue one. Jazz shivers slightly as Prowl takes a sip. 

“We, there’s more?”

“Many more,” Prowl smirks before setting down the cube and taking a cloth from the drawer and dampening it with pink Energon. He hisses when Prowl rubs the rag over his shoulders. “This is just a village. There are cities in this land just as there are cities where you come from.”

“Wow,” Jazz rubs his helm as Prowl finishes running the rag over his burned frame. Prowl leads him into the living room where the Praxian takes the chair across from the couch. Jazz sits on the plush couch and smiles slightly.

“Would you like to play a game?” Prowl asks, Jazz’s smiles fades as he looks at the table. Only a few pieces get picked up by his visor.

“I can’t . . . I can’t see it.”

“Oh,” Prowl frowns and stands. Jazz turns a bit when Prowl passes him, the smell of decaying Energon greets him. Did Prowl always smell like that? He hears Prowl return and he turns back to the table. The pieces glow in muted colors and Jazz glances up at Prowl. “You can see that?”

“Yeah,” Jazz tilts his helm. “What did you do?”

“I used the gel from the biolight you left behind,” Prowl smiles, Jazz gets up from the couch to sit on Prowl’s lap. Prowl hesitantly puts his servo on Jazz’s side. Jazz hums as he drings his Energon. 

“You said the king liked sparklings, why does he want to eat them?”

“The kings are not the same,” Prowl smiles lightly. “Unicron is the king now, he wants the sparklings. Before this land was a haven for sparklings. We helped the sparklings with whatever they needed, their programming work, to getting over fears, to just being friends. The previous king, Puroru, was the benevolent king who made the land prosper and welcomed sparklings in.”

“But Puroru is not nice, he tried to eat me,” Jazz pouts up at Prowl. Prowl sighs and rubs his sensory horns. 

“The new king punished everyone, Puroru even more so. How did you find Puroru’s designation?”

“My data-pad,” Jazz pulls out his data-pad from his subspace. Prowl watches as Jazz flips through the file of “Glyph Meanings”. Jazz turns to the page with his designation. “Puroru eats all the sparklings he gets, well besides me. He didn’t eat me and that probably makes him mad.”

“We do not get a choice if we eat sparklings or not,” Prowl frowns, Jazz only feels the frown in the field. 

“Why don’t you tell me about this place from before?” Jazz glances up at Prowl, the lack of light only illuminates his red chevron. The ice blue optics look to him, like spark blue optics, the optics of Puroru.

“I feel it is more a fairytale than an actual history story,” Prowl’s field grows slightly darker and his frame grows colder under him. The stench of decaying Energon grows and burns his olfactory sensors, he holds his own Energon up, taking tiny sips. “When I first came here, there was nearly nothing here. The only residents were small orbs of sparks. They darted around in play and in their form of movement. We danced together until more mechs found their way, at first they were mechlings. I came as a sparkling and stayed for orns, at least orns here. The time moves differently here and Cybertron.

“They were the only mechlings who came, most of the visitors though were sparklings and when they upgraded some came back as adult mechs to stay and that is how our village grew. Those sparks I encountered before were given life as they chose creators. I watched this kingdom bloom as I upgraded. We soon found that crystals could be used as Energon and building supplies and even as art. The kingdom prospered under Puroru. He welcomed every mech, from sparkling to mech. Life was perfect for vorns under Puroru’s kind and gentle rule. When the star shone, our kingdom was a washed in pure and colorful rainbows that covered the ground like a sea. Mechs with sensitive optics even said that the rainbows reached up to the sky. Puroru loved his people and they loved him. Everyone thought he should live in a castle upon the hill but he chose to live in the village with his people.

“The darkness came on the anniversary of the village founding. It started small, now that I think back on it, the crystal plants at the edge of the village’s farm had begun wilting. The vibrant colors dulled and spread, blackness overtook the fields slowly. Puroru tried to heal the crystals but found doing so drained his spark energy so he tried to protect the royal garden. He made sentries to keep the darkness at bay. The sentries, unlike the other mechs, could see the energy being behind the darkness. The Shadow came to the village gates and two sentries lost their sparks as they made their stand to defend their home. 

“The Shadow entered the village and consumed the love and kindness from the village. The last two remaining sentries took up their post to defend Puroru. By this time the Shadow had gained enough energy to create a solid form. It took the sentries’ sparks and Puroru, drained of energy from trying to keep the royal gardens from any speck of darkness, fell to the Shadow.

“The Shadow consumed the majestic royal gardens, growing in the final energy. Puroru was forced to watch his kingdom fall to the brittle darkness. Just before the darkness took over, Puroru sent a mech, his most trusted advisor to Cybertron with one message and one assignment, to find the mech who can end the curse. A mech with the purest spark that darkness has not touched. The advisor once and for all closed the portal between the two worlds so the darkness could not touch the sparklings coming into the land. It was at a cost though, as told to Puroru by Unicron. Unicron found out about the advisor and cursed him. The advisor would never see his home world again. Haundo came from Cybertron. He is the one who laid the curse for sparklings who left. A curse you now are a part of. I am so sorry, Jazz.”

“’S okay, I can still see, my creators both have visors since as long as I can remember.”

“It sounds like you have very loving creators,” Prowl smiles, kissing the top of his helm. “My creators argued a great deal, I came here to escape their fights. Eventually I came to like it here more than my home.”

“I should be going before my creators worry,” Jazz hops off Prowl’s lap.

“Jazz,” Prowl says as he closes the door and swiftly walks to the blue orb. Who was this Haundo? He could be the key to everything, Jazz smiles to himself as he climbs out from under his berth. The sounds of his Sire making Energon reaches his sensitive audios. He sniffs but nothing lights his sensors. He frowns as he walks down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“What are you making Sire?” Jazz says stepping into the kitchen.

“Your favorite Energon goodies,” Mirage says as Jazz sits at the table. “Mint.”

Jazz hides his frown as he picks up one of the goodies. Smelling wasn’t that important, was it?


End file.
